


The Both of Us Are Running Out of Time

by theshipsfirstmate



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: 4x04 spec, F/M, spec fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:11:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5088482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipsfirstmate/pseuds/theshipsfirstmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Palmer-centric 4x04 spec.</p>
<p>"The first time Ray’s able to hack into Felicity’s phone, it pings back some nonsense from Indonesia and he’s sure he’s done something wrong."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Both of Us Are Running Out of Time

_A/N: I mean, blame Adele, really. I think everyone heard something the first time they listened to[“Hello.”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YQHsXMglC9A&feature=youtu.be) The second time I listened, I heard Ray trying to contact Felicity. So this happened.  
_

**The Both of Us Are Running Out of Time**

The first time Ray’s able to hack into Felicity’s phone, it pings back some nonsense from Indonesia and he’s sure he’s done something wrong.

He keeps it to himself, as best he can, after he has the bad luck to figure out how to reverse the miniaturization technology on the same night that Damien Darhk’s minions are casing the blown out wreckage in the top floors of Palmer Technologies. His whole life, it seems, can now be sorted into eras defined by singularly epic moments of bad luck. Walking through the wrong part of town with his fiancee, blowing himself up, meeting Felicity Smoak just a little too late.

The goons strip him of his gear – his ATOM suit and his tablet and his phone – but in some distracted oversight, they let him keep his watch. It’s not perfect, not after sustaining a few months of miniaturization, but he’s able to keep it hidden and work with it, attempting once again to contact Felicity. The next time he tries, he’s able to access her phone’s memory card. There’s dozens of new photo files, geotagged from not just Indonesia, but Thailand, Italy, and finally, Ivy Town.

When he’s finally able to decrypt one, his heart sinks and soars at the same time. He doesn’t begrudge them their happiness, even if it might mean sealing his demise. He had a love like that once.

That night (or whatever time it is when he tries to sleep), he straps the watch back around his leg for safekeeping, and tries to imagine Felicity in the suburbs. It’s not easy, if he’s honest with himself, that’s one of the things he had liked most about her.  With Anna he had pictured it, the whole nine yards: the house in the suburbs, the white picket fence. But Felicity was made for penthouses and polished labs. She fit so nicely into the life he had built for himself that it had been hard to imagine her anywhere else.

It was easy, he remembers. That should have been his first clue that it wasn’t made to last. That she came ready-made for crime fighting was just a bonus, that she already spoke superhero was a stroke of good luck he should have known not to trust.

A week later, with no more success to show for his efforts, bad luck strikes again. At least one of Darhk’s henchman is on patrol at all times, pacing the basement of their headquarters, where they’re keeping him in a makeshift cell that he thinks used to be dry storage of some kind. They take long, winding loops around the place, but of course the guy’s right outside his door when a sound starts blaring from the device around his leg. it’s enough to make him jump, until he realizes it’s a familiar voice.

_“Six months ago, the Arrow died…”_

That’s all he gets a chance to hear, before the door is ripped open and he’s on the ground. Because of course Felicity had run a backtrace and broadcast their signal to not only every airwave in town, but also any and all channels that might be trying to hack them, like he had. When the thug pulls the watch off of him – nearly taking his ankle in the process – it clicks to the homescreen for a second before the man drops it to the floor and stomps out with the butt of his automatic rifle.

“Now, now, that wasn’t very prudent, was it?” Ray’s only been face-to-face with Damien Darhk once before, but just like last time, the ominous voice echoes in the shadows before the man himself appears. He allows himself a small sigh of relief that the villain didn’t have a chance to get his hands on the device, he’s already been unnaturally curious about Felicity.

_“What can you tell me about Ms. Smoak?”_ The question had been veiled under the guise of efforts to manipulate the corporate leaders of Star City, though his words were even more pointed than usual. His curiosity about her was different in a way Ray still can’t sort. It wouldn’t have done anyone any good to have him see her picture on his phone.

“Mr. Palmer,” Dahrk says, looking right into his eyes when the thug pulls him from the ground and freezing his spine straight like an icicle. “It seems we’ve underestimated you.”

When he comes to, what might be hours later, his first thought is to wonder why Darhk hasn’t killed him yet. His second is, _they’re back._ Felicity and Oliver are back in town, which can only mean things have gotten a lot worse. Or maybe she got his message.

He half-heartedly wishes there were someone, anyone else to contact, someone else he could trust. Maybe Cisco, but he could barely get into Felicity’s cell network, Star Labs is out of the question, especially without his watch. And he doesn’t want anyone else. He wants Felicity.

Except now, that means something different, and he’s starting to worry about the toll it will take on her. He knows she’ll turn the city inside out when she finds out he’s been trying to contact her and he knows the grief when she realizes how long he’s been trying will do the same to her. With every day that passes, the twisted part of him that hopes she never knows grows a little, and when the last little bit of hope rots inside of him, he’s ready for an effort that he knows could be his last.

He waits out the guard’s patrol, counting out five minutes so the man’s at his furthest point away from his cell, wrapping his shirt around his fist to smash through the small safety windows, and using a sharpened rivet from his shoe to cut through the wire. He’s able to reach the control panel with his arm stretched out the broken window – another benefit of this not being a designed prison – and manually override the lock. That’s the easy part.

The hard part comes when he’s got to use one of the antique desktops that litter the warehouse to try and reach Felicity one last time. The manual override of her phone takes five more long minutes, and he holds his breath on a silent prayer as he enters the last letter of her name, hoping that there’s enough metadata to lead her back to him, to this place. He hopes there’s something to help, even if he won’t be able to.

Footsteps start to echo in the distance, and when they reach the metal staircase he takes one last moment to think about her. They were so alike, in so many ways, and for two people who couldn’t love each other, not really, they had at least come close. He knows she’s got enough inside her to fight this new darkness, he hopes there’s enough beside her to help keep her and the city safe, in that order. He hopes she’s happy, remembers how beautiful she looks when she is.

Then the butt of a rifle cracks against his temple, and everything goes black.


End file.
